Sole Survivor
by Sharper
Summary: Suitable for teens, 13 years and older, with fantasy violence, and minor coarse language. A short story based on my Empire Campaign. Just a little color to round out the culture and background.
1. The Morning

**Sole Survivor**

**Imperial Year 1627, 47th Day of Fall**

**The Feast of Servon's Justice**

The twenty-one men were the pride of their House. Not many Common Houses could afford to field such a fine unit. For that matter there were not many Common Houses that had members of the Warrior Caste among its members. Since the time of its founding House Dark Door has been know for providing the Empire with fine swordsmen. Proud warriors that could trace their family lines back to the Conquest and the Kingdom of Altha.

The twenty-one men stood ready on the hill. Once they had been fifty. The summer of campaigning on the North Coast had cost the band of warriors' lives but earned honor for both them and Dark Door. Today, at what was to be the final battle against humanities greatest foe they stood as General Cullough's bodyguard.

Fifty men who had been lead by the famed Captain Rodrigo, Hero of Kettle Ridge, were now just twenty lead by a sergeant. The standard red and green livery of the Empire had replaced the pale green silk surcoats originally issued with much pomp by the House leaders some months ago. The men were much like their uniforms now. Well worn, much patched, and no nonsense.

Sergeant Harmon stood at the forefront of his twenty men. That is how he thought of them now after a season of campaigning. His men. He had total confidence that they thought of him as their leader. That was one thing battle gave you, confidence. Or else it broke you. The man higher up the hill behind them with the plumes on his helm and the enameled breastplate was not their leader only their general. The captains, servants, messengers, and hangers-on were all depending on Harmon and his men to handle any of the Grimmer that broke though the main line.

The sun was rising well toward midmorning when the battle below the hill was joined. The Grimmer preferred to attack during the heat of the day. Their insect like bodies functioned better in the heat then the cool of night. With the Fall season's nights bringing the promise of the colder Winter the horde was becoming desperate. With their living ships destroyed in the first battle they had no recourse to win here in the lands of men or perish when the snows came.

Their army was more of a mob then a true army, a multitude of multi-armed nightmarish creatures unloaded from their living ships months ago. Most of the ones that can fly had been destroyed by the archers and wizards many battles ago. The animal like creatures that killed by instinct were mostly gone also. The Grimmer that were left were the smart ones and the big ones. The ones that stood and thought like men, and the ones as big as a house.

The Gods of the Arch willing, the Northern Army of the Empire would kill the invaders to the last horrible creature. This last battle and they could all go home. For Harmon and his men that meant back to the estate and families and friends. Families that would ask after the lost men. Memorials for the dead, widows to consol, and orphans to raise to take the place of their fathers on the battle front. Such had been the way of the Warrior caste for generations.


	2. It Begins

1**Chapter One**

The Grimmer launched their first attack in response to the probing by the light calvary on the left flank. They sent the massive armored beetles as big a wagons after the calvary. The creatures really had too many legs to be giant beetles. Grimmer typically had eight or more unlike the six of true insects. In addition no true insect could grow to such a large size and still move. The wizards said it was grimmer magic. Harmon did not know how such magic could allow such a creature to move. Only that they had lost two men to the things in the first battle. Until they learned to chop the things limbs off and then come back and finish them at their leisure they had been a fearsome foe.

The light calvary fled inland away from the battle. But from their vantage point on the hill Harmon and his men could see it was a trick. From behind the pikemen on the left flank came a unit of heavy lancers. The lancer's charge made short work of the lumbering grimmer. The lances propelled by the heavy horses and their riders were one of the few things that could penetrate the iron like shell. Much safer then infantry using axes on the legs, and just as affective. Only two riders went down. One was rescued by skirmishers. The other went down with his mount crushed by a collapsing hulk.

The skirmishers barely make it back to their own lines. Grimmer spine-throwers used the cover of the dead hulks to advance and send a shower of poison spines into the pikemen and retreating skirmishers. Some of the poisonous spines found flesh among the ranks of pikemen. The screams of pain alerted the clerics in the rear ranks that then rushed to aid the men. The priest's white robes flapping in the wind as they ran.

Harmon grimaced and rubbed his right shoulder at the remembrance of pain from a spine, soon it will be time for payback. "Before the spine-throwers get close shoot them down with the crossbows." His men already knew to do this, but his five crossbowmen check their bows and made sure their bolts were at the ready. They had fought and felt the sting of spine-throwers before. They really did not need to see the battle below to be remind of the dangers of the different types of grimmer.

The signal men on the hill waved yellow flags. Within moments the sky was filled with arrows as every archer in the army let fly. Longbowmen in the center sent a devastating flight into the center. Taking down grimmer in droves. Crossbowmen on the flanks stepped out from the protection of the pikemen to send bolt after bolt into the packed ranks of the enemy. On the left they were answered by the spine-throwers. Evidently these were the only grimmer that had range weapons left. More signs their foes were fighting their last battle.

Under the cover of the archers the skirmishers and grenadiers advanced. When he first saw them Harmon had greatly admired the grenadiers. The men who fought with flame. The suave men in their red leather armor, bandoleers of oil flasks, and the ever present torches. Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, they only excepted veterans in their ranks. Now a veterans of many battles and a sergeant, Harmon knew better. The life of a grenadier while glorious was short. It was no differed today. The men who were shot down by the spine-throwers collapsed on their pots of alchemists fire. They were consumed by their own incendiary weapons like worshipers of the mad fire god Abaddon. Those who made it to the grimmer lines caused great devastation when their flung weapons burst into flame among the packed enemies. Revenge for their fallen comrades. The surviving men were able to retreat under the cover of the smoke.

The javeliners, while doing much less damage, were able to release their barrage and escape to their own lines. The few wounded were helped to safety by their fellows. They would return to the battle, with the help the healing priests, to protect the flanks for the rest of the battle. While not a glorious assignment the young men and women of the skirmishers were fleet of foot and proud of their abilities to dodge the grimmer's attacks while delivering their own iron javelins.

General Cullough had enough of these ploys. He spoke to the signal men who then waved red flags signaling a general advance. The signal was taken up by the standard bearers all along the line. The whole infantry line lurched forward as individual company commanders gave the order to advance. The real battle had begun.

Harmon drew his sword and pointed to the battle below. "Watch for breakthroughs. There are not enough reserves to block all the holes. We may have to deal with more then just stragglers."

The signal men took up blue flags at the command of their general. Their waving signaled the calvary to began their attack. They advance from the flanks at a trot, breaking into a gallop as they pass the marching pikemen. Then as they quickly eat up the distance to the opposing lines they form into wedges, lower their lances and charge. The noise is devastating. The crash of steel, hoof, and carapace is enormous.

With a shout from their commanders the infantry, lower their pikes and charge screaming their varied House battle cries. Caught unready by the calvary, whatever passed for a general among the grimmer decided to make the best of a bad situation and ordered a counter attack. Shrill whistles went up from grimmer ranks and the mass surged forward. The counter charge bent both lines into a huge bow like curve. From the hilltop it looked like the bow was disconcertingly aimed at the small group of men. The bow bent and quivered like the living thing it was. The infantry held. The veterans knew to break and run would be their doom.

With the armies joined the wizards of the Empire and the grimmer sorcerers added their power. Winged beasts of light swooped down on the grimmer rear. Only to be cut to ribbons by green beams of light. Summoned fiendish animals clashed claw and fang with elementals that burned, splashed, or knocked grimmer prone with Gusts of Wind. A creature that looked to be half horse half giant bear materialize behind the right flank and began to lay waste to the healer priests of Keltor-Ra and the wounded they tended. Harmon's men were restless and ready to run to help so he intervened. "Hold you dogs. Your duty is here. The clerics knew the risks when they signed on."

As he spoke a living whorl wind momentarily blocked their view. When it cleared there were several white robed priests still standing. Many more were prone. There was no sign of the summoned beast. Harmon was relived the creature had been dealt with. While a summoned creature could not long remain here on this plane it could very well have tuned its attention to his small unit. The general had a wizard at his side to defend against such attacks. Still it would go badly for him and his men.


End file.
